


Approach-Avoidance Conflicts and the Uncommon Ways We Try to Cheat Them

by rosemilagros



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Multi, Swingers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-21 06:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1540331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosemilagros/pseuds/rosemilagros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian and Miles bond while Keiko is away on Bajor and Julian questions his relationship with Garak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was hogging the covers deliberately, Miles was sure of it. Every time he tried to pull the blanket over his shoulder, a few more inches would be tugged away. Laying faced away from the Cardassian, he could only imagine the smirk on his face. There was no way Garak was sleeping; his breathing was too steady, those movements too deliberate. Then again, this could have been common unconscious behavior. Miles didn’t know much about alien sleeping habits.

“Stop it,” he said sternly, glancing over his shoulder and wrenching the blanket back. A few moments later, the cover slid away. This must have been a game played to aggravate Miles into a fit of rage — or to force him to move into the range of Garak’s arms. He had seen this one-step-back, two-steps-forward method work on Julian before; Garak would move away from him just slightly, compelling Julian to nestle even closer.

A noise from outside the bedroom startled Miles. He sat up and groped around the floor for a pair of trousers. Garak did not stir. His form was difficult to make out in the darkness, but he was certainly awake now if not before. Surely no former operative of the Obsidian Order could allow any disturbance to go unnoticed, even while he slept.

Miles pulled up his trousers and stepped out of the bedroom, squinting against the light. He could see Keiko standing on the other side of the couch, leaning down to take something from the cabinet.

“Sweetheart?” he asked, still blinking the room into focus.

She straightened up quickly and brought a hand to her chest. “Oh, God. Miles. You startled me,” she smiled. “I’m sorry to wake you. I just… I forgot some things.”

“Oh, right,” he muttered.

She took a few things from the shelf and placed them in her bag before turning back to him. They both stood in silence for a moment, avoiding any eye contact.

“Do you need anything from the bedroom?” Miles said at last. “Pajamas, or…?”

Keiko shook her head. “No, no. Julian’s letting me borrow a pair of his.” She didn’t meet his eyes. “I, um... I’d better be getting back,” she said, brushing away a strand of hair and moving toward the door.

“How was it?” Miles asked quickly.

“Oh, it was…” Keiko turned and bit her lip. “Well, we didn’t… actually.”

He looked up. “What?”

“We didn’t,” she repeated. “We were both a bit tired, and we got to talking… Julian knows quite a bit about herbal medicine, actually. I offered to lend him a few of the phytotherapy books I brought back from Bajor.” She paused. “That’s what I came to get.”

Miles sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Great.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, then hesitated. “It’s just that… Keiko, I thought the whole point of this was to— well, I didn’t imagine you’d be bonding over herbal medicine, of all things.”

“I'm sorry," she scoffed. "I wasn’t aware I was _obligated_ to sleep with him. This whole thing wasn’t exactly my idea, you know.”

“Let’s not do this right now,” he said, putting up a hand. “We can argue when there isn’t a Cardassian spy listening in from the next room.”

Keiko only shook her head and closed up the cabinet. “Good night, Miles,” she said, crossing the room to kiss him before leaving.

Everything was silent for a few moments before Miles shut off the lights and moved to the window. Perhaps this whole thing wasn’t such a good idea after all. His intention had ultimately been to rid himself of guilt while still having Julian in bed. Miles knew it was a shallow intention. He and Keiko were on good standing, especially considering the turmoil they’d been through since moving to the station, and now he may have jeopardized their marriage — all because of some sexual impulse he had toward a colleague.

 

It was difficult to say how it came to happen. Looking back, Miles could only string together an unclear progression of events. If he had to say, the reasonable beginning would be when he and Julian became regular drinking buddies. With Keiko and Molly on Bajor, he didn’t have much to do outside of work. The nights were lonelier than any he could remember from bachelorhood. He needed someone to spend them with.

Their uniform meetings began as a few hours at Quark’s every other weekend. Then they became more frequent and ritualistic. The hours grew longer and later and they often stayed talking until the bar had cleared out. It didn’t matter if one or both of them had to be up early; wasting time together was more important.

“I should be getting back to my quarters,” Miles recalled saying one night. “The phaser lock on the Rio Grande is still malfunctioning and I haven’t even run a diagnostic.” But there was only a moment of silence and a smile from Dr. Bashir. Miles didn’t move from his seat until two hours later, when Julian walked him home.

It was around this time that he stopped mentioning Julian in his dispatches to Keiko.

And then their regular table near the front of the bar changed. Miles, for the life of him, couldn’t remember whose idea that was. Perhaps the bar was busy and their table had been taken. Julian may have suggested they occupy a quieter section, or maybe Miles had insisted on a more secluded area. Regardless, thereafter, they always sat in a neglected corner on the third level, perfectly obscured from the bar’s entrance. Often times they were the only two up there, excluding the occasional pair of lovers just as desperate for privacy as they were.

As they climbed the spiral stairway one evening, Dr. Bashir pointed out an empty table on the second level, just along the balcony railing. “Is that where you and Keiko used to sit?” he asked.

Miles paused. “Yeah, that’s our table.”

He went home early that night.

 

There was a brief incident that could have nearly been overlooked.

Often times they would take turns walking each other home, depending on who claimed to be more exhausted. On more than one amusing occasion, the two were so caught up in conversation that they walked several meters past the doctor’s quarters without realizing it. Sometimes Miles would invite Julian in for a ‘real’ drink, and they’d spend another hour or two talking and laughing and going the entire time without looking away from each other.

“I’d better be going,” Julian would say, clear his throat and leave, sometimes adding a brief excuse: “I have some tests to run in the morning,” or, “I’m meeting someone for breakfast.”

Miles must have had just enough to drink that night, because he grabbed Julian’s arm before he had time to move away from the couch. “You could spend the night,” he offered, releasing the doctor’s arm.

Julian shuffled his feet. “Chief, I—”

“Oh, Christ. I didn’t mean—”

“I know you didn't,” he said quickly, adding a forced smile. “It’s just that Garak and I… well, I wouldn't want him hearing anything about…”

“Say no more.” Miles waved his hand, and Dr. Bashir went home, just like every other night. The chief fell asleep still cursing himself.

From then on they only walked to Julian’s quarters, and Miles was never invited inside. He didn't blame the doctor for that. If Keiko were aboard the station, he would be just as cautious about not planting any seeds for rumors to sprout from.

What did Julian see in that Cardassian anyway? Sure, he was mildly attractive and mysterious—if you were into that sort—but what made their relationship so valuable? Until that moment, Miles hadn’t even been sure the two were romantically involved. That meant one of two things: whatever romance they had was, in fact, not very serious, or Julian intended to keep things confidential. In any case, he told himself it wasn't any of his business and he had more important things to take care of.

 

And then they kissed. One night, briefly, outside Julian’s quarters. It felt so natural. Miles held his shoulder and kissed his cheek; almost like saying goodbye to a loved one in the morning. And Julian was very accepting, even as Miles slowly pulled away. His face was flushed, either from embarrassment or the whiskey he brought along that night, and he muttered an apology.

He was preparing to laugh it off when Julian kissed him back. Not a goodnight kiss, or even an excited one, but something in between, and in an entirely unacceptable and incredible manner.

“Julian,” he breathed, moving forward for another.

“We can’t,” the doctor mumbled, shaking his head. “Garak and… and Keiko. It isn’t fair to Keiko.”

Miles wasn't sure if it would be inappropriate to apologize, so he only said goodnight and went home. He tried to resist thinking of Julian when he touched himself that night, but the fantasy was too tempting.

 

After that, they didn’t go out again. What time they had to spend together during work hours was minimal. They spoke only when necessary, and communication was succinct. Much to Chief O’Brien’s discomfort, the other officers quickly took notice.

“Oh, yes. Because I’ve always thought so highly of the great Dr. Bashir,” Miles replied sarcastically to a random inquiry by Lt. Dax. She’d probably already gotten the full story from Julian himself.

Only a few days later, he was assigned to inventory a cargo bay full of medical supplies—with the assistance of Bashir. It was busywork and hardly required the attention of two senior officers. O’Brien scoffed at the idea.

“Something wrong?” Sisko asked.

“Sir,” He hesitated. Everyone in ops seemed to have some idea of what was going on between the doctor and him, and Miles could feel them gazing side-eyed in his direction. “Well, it’s just that Ensign Ramirez could have it done just as—”

“I want you and Dr. Bashir to do it,” he said. “Bajor has been waiting to receive these supplies for quite some time and I want to make sure everything that needs to be there, is.” He smiled. “Understand?”

O’Brien clenched his jaw. “Yes, sir.”

 

Dr. Bashir showed up ninety minutes late. By that time, O'Brien was more than halfway done. To contrast the chief’s irritable condition, he seemed to have a bounce in his step.

Miles pretended to absorb himself in the label of a random container when he heard the doctor enter, and ignored him even as he stood nearby and cleared his throat.

“Sorry I’m late, Chief,” he said. O’Brien grunted. “No one informed me we’d be conducting another inventory. Luckily Major Kira dropped by and asked why I wasn’t—”

“Hold on.” O’Brien looked up from his PADD. “ _Another?_ ”

“I’m sorry…?”

“Another. You said you’d be doing _another_ inventory. You've already been over the vaccines, equipment, everything?”

“Well, yes,” he said, sounding a bit unsure. “Ensign Ramirez did most of the work, but I had a quick look at the supplies to make sure everything was here. The major said there’d been a malfunction, or the numbers were off, or something along those lines.”

Miles scoffed and turned back to catalog the next containers.

Julian stepped forward and folded his arms behind his back. “Something the matter, Chief?”

“I’d bet you anything there wasn’t a thing wrong with that first inventory,” he said, keying a few digits into the manifest.

Julian paused. “What do you mean?”

“They think we had a fight,” Miles said, squatting down to read one of the lower labels. “Dax asked me about it just the other day. Funny enough, Quark was the only other one to say anything.”

Attempting to keep their exchange casual and avoid what could have easily turned into an uncomfortable situation, Julian took up a PADD from atop a nearby container and began his inventory. “Jadzia spoke to me as well,” he said.

“I already got those ones.” Without looking up, Miles pointed to the stack directly behind him. “Try those.”

“Right.” Julian moved not quite back-to-back to the chief, studiously avoiding brushing against him. “She asked me if we had an argument.”

Miles laughed. “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing. But, she also asked…” Julian took a deep breath. “... how you’re doing without Keiko around.”

The chief stopped to look over his shoulder. “I hope you said it was none of her goddamn business.”

“Oh, Miles, come on,” he grumbled, turning to face him. “You can’t blame anyone simply for worrying.”

“Tell me, Julian: how exactly _am_ I supposed to be doing without her?” Miles tossed the manifest to the floor and stood from his crouching position. “How am I supposed to act without my family around, hm?” He took a menacing step forward. “Lonely? Like I can’t stand waking up alone every morning? Or should I pretend everything’s just fine? Yeah, I haven’t seen my wife in two months and I can’t be there to tuck my daughter in at night, but everything’s dandy because I don’t have any feelings.”

He muttered something under his breath and picked up his PADD. Facing away from each other, they returned to work and made way through half the cargo before Dr. Bashir broke the silence.

“Garak left the station today.”

Miles faltered at the abrupt announcement and glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

“Garak,” he repeated. “He left the station with Odo just a few hours ago. Apparently he wasn’t the only ex-spy that was targeted yesterday.”

He continued to watch Julian as he worked. “Headed for Cardassia?” he asked.

The doctor scoffed. “If I had to make an educated guess, I’d say you’re right. But, altogether?” He made an adjustment to the manifest and moved to the next containers, “I have no idea.”

“Didn’t you see him before he left?”

He turned around. “You sound distressed, Chief. I thought you’d be glad. After all, he is headed toward a planet full of government officials that would jump at the chance to execute him.”

Miles grabbed Julian by the shoulder. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t worry. You’re not the only one who’d like to see this station rid of Cardassians,” he said, turning away bitterly.

O’Brien shook his head and went back to his work. “God forbid I show any concern for your boyfriend, the creep that he is.”

Julian sighed. “Not my boyfriend.”

Miles’ hand slipped from the PADD and it brought up an error message. He worked quickly to correct it. “When did that happen?”

“It didn’t _happen_.” He shrugged. “We’re just… not as committed as I thought, evidently.”

Putting down the manifest once again, Miles turned to him. “Look, Julian… He’s only left the station. He’s on a mission with Odo, of all people! It doesn’t mean—”

“Chief…” he interrupted. “It’s not that. This is different. I think whoever he’s hoping to find—these veteran operatives or whoever they are—I think he’ll convince them to absolve his exile. He’s planning to return to Cardassia permanently”

There weren’t many things Miles could say to make things better, and if there were, he couldn’t think of any. He only raised an eyebrow and stuttered. “Ah. I, uh…”

“That’s not even the worst part,” Julian continued, still facing away. “That Flaxian didn’t place the explosive in Garak’s shop… he did it himself. All for a chance to return home and proudly serve Cardassia once again.”

“Julian—”

“It’s alright, Chief,” he said, turning to him with a smile. “It’s made me realize who will really be there for me… if worst comes to worst.”

Miles felt Julian’s fingers entangling his. He took a deep breath. “Julian,” he whispered. “The cameras.” He nodded to his left, where they both knew a surveillance device sat hidden in the bulkhead.

“I know,” he said. “If they weren’t there, I’d be kissing you.”

Miles felt his body tense. The only thing he could sense was the pounding in his chest and Julian’s hand in his. “Would you… uh, would you like to come over… tonight? For dinner, I mean. Unless you’d like to— Not that—”

Julian smiled. “I’d love to.”

Miles hadn’t felt this nervous around anyone since he first began seeing Keiko; and even then, he was always too worried about impressing her to examine what was genuinely going on between them. He exhaled as he and Julian turned away from one another and worked toward finishing the inventory. Maybe right now, while he stood only arm’s length from the only man in the universe who could make him even entertain the thought of infidelity, was not the proper time to think about his wife.

Miles clenched his eyes shut and tried to drum out the shame that washed over him. He loved Keiko; and Molly. Oh, God. Molly. Jesus Christ, was he even considering his family in this?

No, no. It was just dinner. Dinner with Julian.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The initial awkwardness was done with, but Julian still stood around uncomfortably. Despite being in his own quarters, he felt as if he was left alone in someone else’s. He changed into pajamas just after Keiko left, and now waited patiently for her return. He was just beginning to yawn and considered lying down when the door swished open.

He stood up and smiled as Keiko entered. “It took me a while to find the right one,” she said, handing over a small isolinear chip. “I haven’t had time to finish it, but Dr. Chashal swears by the methods. A lot of the herbs they mention have been in use on Bajor for centuries.”

Julian smiled politely. “Sounds very interesting.”

She looked up at him with an incredulous smirk. “You know, you don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“No, no. I really would like to,” he exhaled. “However, I am absolutely exhausted right now and while this evening has been nothing but delightful, right now I want nothing more than to get into bed.”

Keiko stared at him blankly.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to— to fall asleep, is what I meant.”

“Oh,” she smiled, sighing in relief. “For a second... well, I think I’d like to get to bed too.”

Julian gestured toward the bathroom. “I, um… I left some pajamas in there if you’d like to change.”

“Thank you,” she said, nodding before disappearing past the door.

Hopefully that would be the extent of his blundering for the night. Julian took a deep breath and sat down on the bed, then waited a moment before crawling under the covers. It occurred to him a moment later that he’d have to move from his usual spot in the middle of the bed to make room for Keiko. It didn’t make much difference to him, but now he faced a ridiculous internal debate of which side to take. If Julian slept on his right side, as he usually did, he did not want to risk the discomfort of lying face-to-face with his lover’s wife all night long. After a second of consideration, he took the left side.

Keiko shut off the lights as she returned from the bathroom. Julian didn’t have time to face away from the center of the bed, and now he didn’t want to make his avoidance obvious. Instead, he shut his eyes. Hopefully Keiko would assume he’d fallen asleep already and not attempt to make any sort of conversation. She slipped into bed quietly.

As always, Julian found the warmth of another body nearby comforting; even if he did prefer to have Miles or Garak beside him — or both on either side. He wondered what the two of them were up to right now; and whether or not they’d gotten far enough past bickering to have any fun.

Keiko turned over to meet him. Her face was barely visible in the starlight, but Julian could discern a pair of open eyes.

“How was it last night?” she asked softly. “With Miles?”

Julian froze. He was uncertain whether to respond or maintain his unconscious pretense. “Sorry?” he asked.

“Oh, c’mon.” Her eyes glimmered as they rolled upward. “It’s not like we have any reason to be shy about it.”

“Well, um…” Julian shifted his legs beneath the covers, “it was… good, I suppose.”

“Don’t tell me that’s all you have to say.”

He had to remind himself that as far as Keiko new, last night was the first and only time he and Miles had been together. “He was a bit forceful,” Julian admitted.

She laughed. “Forceful? That’s not the exact word I would have used. Energetic, maybe.”

In actuality, their first time had been intensely slow and passionate, discounting the heavy foreplay that had pressured them both toward the bedroom; but once inside, Miles was gentle — almost as if he were afraid of breaking Julian’s thin frame. He held back, even when asked to move faster. There was a hint of antagonized restraint behind every delicate tug of hair, every impatient thrust, every kiss that could have been more vulgar than it was. In some ways, he and Garak were alike.

“Perhaps he’s just more… sensitive with you,” Julian suggested.

“I don’t think so,” Keiko sighed, turning over to lie on her back. “For all I know, he’s completely lost his taste for women.” Despite the smile in her voice, a strike of panic hit Julian’s chest.

“What do you mean?” he asked solemnly.

Keiko turned her head to smile at him. “I was just joking,” she laughed. “You may be good-looking, but don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Oh, right,” he said, forcing a smile. “So… you and Garak…?”

Compared to Miles, Garak’s gentle demeanor — if one could call it that — was much more insidious. He was always just slow enough to gradually force Julian into an anxious fit of whining and begging. Of course, Garak never complied; he only moved pointedly slower and whispered sweet, sedative things against his skin. When they first began sleeping together, he regarded this as a Cardassian style of tenderness; and from a lover generally so distant and sphinxlike, Julian welcomed it. Yet, he couldn’t help but notice the pleasure Garak took from each complaint he elicited. It did not take long for him to realize that the dashing and secretive former operative was only being a tremendous tease. Consideration of Garak’s distaste for intimacy or any discussion of it outside the bedroom, as well as Julian’s general satisfaction with their sexlife, led him not to press the matter.

“I didn’t think he would be so… charming,” Keiko admitted. “You hear all these rumors about him, like he’s some sort of vicious mastermind, but actually,” she took a deep breath, “… he’s very sweet.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to discredit those rumors,” Julian muttered.

Keiko glanced at him uneasily, to which he couldn’t help but laugh. “You dope,” she said, playfully swatting his arm and smiling.

After a few experimental kisses and an amusing discussion of their companions’ weaknesses as lovers, they nestled into each other’s arms. Keiko was asleep within moments, softly wheezing with her head tilted backwards. Julian adjusted his arm, shifting her neck forward to correct her breathing. He abruptly recognized the outlandishness of this situation.

His lover’s wife, whom he was mean to be wooing, lay sleeping in his arms while, on the other side of the habitat ring, his boyfriend was presumably fucking his other boyfriend. It sounded something like a cheaply-written drama: the naive wife could never suspect that her husband would betray her for the handsome doctor, let alone hand over his heart while she worked so hard from world's away to keep their marriage together.

Julian felt a sickening guilt wash over him as he realized this really was, without exaggeration, a summary of the circumstances.

 

He had been so sure of himself just a few hours ago. He even brought along a glass of wine as a courtesy. Now he stood outside Miles’s door, anxiously debating whether or not he should leave and spend the rest of the night alone in his quarters, probably drinking and undoubtedly sulking about Garak.

Was that what all this was about? Julian had to ask himself if he was only using the chief as some kind of payback for his recent abandonment.

No. He had genuine affections for Miles. Affections that rivaled what he felt for Garak, whether or not their relationship was in peril — or even completely done for. No matter what happened tonight, it had nothing to do with Garak.

Inside, he greeted Miles with a kiss to the cheek as he handed over the wine bottle. “It was a birthday gift from Jadzia,” he explained. “I was going to save it for a special occasion, but… I don’t have any special occasions planned for a while.”

Miles looked down at the bottle. “I didn’t take you for much of a wine drinker.”

“I’m not,” Julian sighed. “But I thought it’d be classier than scotch.”

He smiled. “I’ll find room for it.”

The dining table was elaborately and unnecessarily decorated. Two elegant plates were set cornerwise to each other, just close enough to allow intimate contact. Various dishes and bowls occupied a majority of the counter space, allowing room for two taper candles. Julian was certain that the tablecloth beneath it all — an intricate purple floral pattern with gold thread woven in — was specially replicated. Miles watched as he looked over it all.

“I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for,” he said, “so I put together a bit of everything.”

Julian smirked. “I see that.” Everything from asparagus to bruschetta to some sort of onion soup sat waiting to be eaten. Thankfully, Miles was not very creative when it came to food — Julian had to retain his daring nature for later on.

“Would you like to sit down?” Miles asked, stepping back to pull out Julian’s chair.

“Of course.” He nodded, kissing Miles’s cheek before sitting down.

The chief was obviously nervous; his hands shook as he shoveled a few potatoes onto his plate, he stumbled over every other word and couldn’t look Julian in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time. Julian tried to soothe him, hold his gaze, speak softly, but this only seemed to agitate his condition. He laid a hand on his, but Miles only smiled weakly and pulled away a minute later.

“Is everything alright, Chief?” Julian asked, leaning toward him with one elbow on the table.

Miles glanced at him as he started into another piece of steak.. “What do you mean?”

“You seem nervous.”

He continued to eat and didn’t respond.

“Am I making you nervous?” Julian reached for his hand, but once again Miles only pulled away and sighed.

“I’m married,” he stated, finally meeting Julian’s gaze.

The doctor nodded. “Yes, I know.”

Miles took a deep breath. “Kissing is one thing… but having you _here_ —”

“I’ve been in your quarters before.”

“Julian. You know what I mean.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m sorry. But… this is just dinner, Chief. Admittedly, a very nice dinner with candles and a lovely tablecloth…”

“The candles _are_ a nice touch.”

“Enchanting mood lighting,” Julian agreed. “But despite all that, this is still only dinner. Two friends and a meal. That’s all.” He reached out for Miles’s hand, and this time the chief allowed his touch.

Halfway through desert they began to touch beneath the table, legs rubbing against each other, both developing a terrible blush.

They left the candles burning and moved to the couch, kissing and touching and whispering sweet things to one another. Julian especially enjoyed the half-sentences Miles muttered against his skin. “So soft…” he mumbled, kissing Julian’s neck and pulling him closer. There was a sincerity about the way Miles touched him, as if he was perfectly content to do nothing more than sit and kiss him for the rest of the night.

And perhaps this was a correct assumption, because as Julian sat halfway in his lap, kissing him and playing with his hair, he began to feel hesitancy in his lips.

He pulled away slowly. “What’s wrong?”

Miles sighed. “I don’t know. I…” He shook his head. “Nevermind. Just something stupid.” He leaned in to resume the kiss, but Julian wouldn’t allow it.

He rested a hand on Miles’s chest and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t want you to have any regrets if we go ahead with this.”

With another heavy sigh, Miles leaned back into the couch and lifted Julian’s hand. He ran a thumb over his palm several times before pressing a gentle kiss to his fingers. “Maybe… it would be better if you just went home tonight.”

Julian nodded silently. He told himself there was a high probability of Miles remaining faithful to his wife. This of course, only made him more captivating. After all, would he really want to make love to someone who would betray their own spouse?

He kissed his cheek before rising from the couch and straightening his shirt. Miles stood only as he approached the door.

“Julian,” he called, and the doctor turned to face him. “Understand that… if I wasn’t married—”

“Please,” he raised a silencing hand, “please, do not finish that sentence.”

They kissed once more before he left.

He couldn’t blame Miles. Of course he couldn’t. Had he been in a similar situation, Julian would have done the same. They both agreed it wasn’t fair to Keiko. And yet there was no denying how good it felt to finally touch one another, to release the desire Julian had bottled up for months, and to feel the same passion reflected onto him. It was difficult to focus on the morality of one’s actions with another man’s tongue against his.

If anyone were to find out, there would be nothing short of a scandal. Everyone on the station respected and admired Keiko too much to allow something like this to pass under her nose.

“Julian—!”

He was not twenty paces from the door when he turned to see Miles coming toward him.

This time, there was nothing soft about it. Against the wall, the couch, the partially-cleared table; any surface they could find to press against. After finally making it to the bed, they fought one another for dominance, and did not give up easily. Only when Julian was pushed down and rudely stripped did he give in. He let Miles win, he later told himself. For the man’s ego, of course.

 

For the next few weeks, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Excluding modest breakfasts and a sporadic public lunch at the replimat, mealtimes were spent in each other’s quarters, without much time to actually eat. At first, Miles was overly cautious about arousing anyone’s suspicion and insisted they make regular appearances together at Quark’s. They stood apart an extra few centimeters than what felt natural, and made sure they weren’t seen walking off together.

Much to Miles’s disapproval, Julian was not so cautious. He stole kisses while everyone’s backs were turned, and in between stops on the turbolift, and any time they reached a known blind spot in the surveillance system. Miles always found time to chide him for it. Perhaps, Julian countered childishly, he wouldn’t do if agitating him wasn’t so gratifying.

There was no mention of Garak. After rescuing him from Tain’s disastrous attempt to invade the Dominion, Julian and he stopped having lunch; or seeing each other at all. There was no discussion between them; only a mutual understanding that for now, things were over. Julian hoped for an apology of some sort, or at least an explanation, but Garak offered nothing. He wished he could forget the entire ordeal and forget Garak as well, but it became increasingly difficult to put him out of mind.

The worst part was wondering if Garak ever thought of him the same way. Was he as worse off without his friend, as Julian was? The idea of Garak being tormented by the thought of an absent lover was not very plausible.

He had never before felt so broken-hearted and angry. What had he hoped for, anyway? That Garak would kneel before him, profess every ounce of regret and shame he felt, and beg to be forgiven? He tried to speak to Miles about it one night in bed, but he was not very understanding.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Miles said, sitting up and stroking Julian’s hair as they snuggled.

“It’s not that simple,” he sighed. “And I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“You’re acting like he has some kind of vendetta against you.”

Julian grumbled and pulled the blanket over his face. “He might as well.”

“Now you’re just being juvenile.” Miles tugged at the blanket, but it stayed firmly where it was. “C’mon, Julian. Stop messing around.” He tried to pull it away once more, but to no avail. “If you’re trying to be cute or—”

The blanket drew back slowly, revealing a pair of teary hazel eyes. Miles sighed. He shifted down to lie beside him and wrapped an arm around his side. “Now you really are being a child,” he said. “Crying over a prick like Garak.”

Julian curled into his chest. “Garak isn’t a prick.”

“Well sure he is,” Miles retorted. “Not to mention a bloody idiot. I doubt there’s a damn thing on Cardassia that’s extraordinary enough to risk losing you for.”

He tilted his head back and gave Miles a gentle kiss before retracting into his embrace. Perhaps he wasn’t the best man to go to for advice, but Miles certainly knew how to comfort someone. The next morning, Julian found that he was just as troubled as he’d been for the past week.

After a few days, in a moment of desperation, he decided to visit the tailor with an excuse of torn trousers and a hope to accomplish heaven knows what. Julian showed him the lengthy tear along the seam, the intentional victim of a scalpel he’d taken to them that morning.

“Well, there doesn’t seem to be too much fraying,” Garak said, looking over the fabric carefully. “Unusual, considering you said this happened… how long ago?”

“A month or so,” he lied. “But I haven’t worn them since.”

“I should hope so,” Garak said, glancing up. “I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to human fashion, but I fathom torn trousers aren’t a current trend.”

Julian overcame the pounding in his chest and tried to think of a witty retort, but his lips could form nothing but polite conversation. “Will they be finished by tomorrow morning?” he asked.

Garak nodded. “They’ll be good as new before breakfast. Though, had you brought them to me a month ago, I imagine they’d be ready to take home now.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” He turned away as Garak began to fold up the trousers, and fought the urge to glance back as he approached the door.

“Oh, and Doctor,” Garak called, just as Julian had one foot outside. “I'd advise you to use a pair of ordinary scissors next time. Vandalizing your wardrobe is not what I'd call an appropriate use of medical equipment.”

Julian felt his throat dry up and a rush of blood to his cheeks. He quickly left the shop.

 

“I've never been more embarrassed in my entire life.” He lay face-down on the couch, burying his head under a pillow as Miles poured them both a drink.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he groaned. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“You weren’t there,” Julian grumbled, sitting up as Miles lowered a glass into his hand. “God, he must think I’m desperate now.”

“He _knows_ you’re desperate now,” Miles muttered into his glass, plopping onto the couch next to him.

“How did he even find out? It’s not as if a ripped seam is farfetched.”

“I don’t imagine it’s very difficult to tell the difference between torn and sliced thread.”

Julian closed his eyes and took a long drink. “I’m such an idiot.”

Miles sighed and put down his glass. “You are getting entirely too worked up about this.” He took away Julian’s drink as well, placing them together on the coffee table, then patted his lap. “Lay down. I want to tell you a story.”

“Chief, I’m not going to—”

“Lay down,” he insisted.

Julian sighed and reluctantly lowered his head onto Miles’ lap, looking up at the ceiling.

“The first time I fell in love was about thirty years ago,” he began, petting Julian’s hair.

“You were only how old, then? 60-something?” Julian mocked.

Miles couldn’t help but smirk. “Shut up. I was 12.” He took Julian’s hand and gently ran his thumb over his knuckles. “And I was in love with the school nurse.”

Julian looked up at him skeptically. “You fell in love with your nurse?”

He nodded. “I was absolutely mad about her. Ms. Hayes. She had gorgeous blond hair, and these radiant green eyes. I thought she was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. I used to dream that I’d steal my dad’s car and we’d go out to the countryside and have a romantic picnic.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say she didn’t feel the same way.”

He shook his head. “But don’t think that stopped me from trying. I would get my knees all cut up on the playground just so I could ask her for plasters, and when it got too cold to go outside, I’d fake a cough or a sore throat. But after a while, she began to notice the pattern.”

“Oh, dear,” he said dryly.

“Oh dear indeed,” Miles answered, brushing off his sarcasm. “She called my parents and told them there had to be a reason I was the only student getting ill so often. Well, my mother — being the way she was — took it as an implication that our home was less than sanitary. She was bent on proving that Ms. Hayes was incompetent and that I was in perfect health, so she dragged me to the pediatrician. I was so afraid they’d tell Ms. Hayes I had never actually been ill that I confessed everything to the doctor.” He took a deep breath. “Of course, he told my parents everything. Everyone thought it was absolutely hilarious and, though I begged her not to, my mum ended up telling Ms. Hayes all about it.”

“If this story doesn’t end with—”

Miles shushed him and Julian stayed quiet. “I was absolutely mortified. I planned to hide my face in shame for the rest of eternity. I got called to her office the next day, and I was positive she was going to have me expelled. Instead, she told me to never bother her again unless I was dying, and gave me my first kiss on the cheek.”

Julian paused. “That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“And now I’m supposed to feel better?”

“You’re supposed to consider that it might not be such a bad idea for Garak to know how you actually feel,” Miles said.

Julian sat up and gave him a soft kiss. “The only thing that story made me consider is that you may have a predilection for medical professionals.”

He smirked. “I can’t argue with that.” He leaned in for another kiss, but Julian only tilted his head to the side and pecked Miles’s cheek.

“Now, don’t bother me unless you’re dying,” he said before rising from the couch and disappearing into the bedroom.

Miles downed what remained in his glass before following after him.


End file.
